{A/N: Someone said we had hit 100 powerstones before, and I didn't give you guys an extra chapter. My mistake, as I missed it. BTW, it's an extra chapter for every 100 powerstones.
But he never got the chance. In a blur of motion, the golden Lasso of Truth snapped forward, wrapping tightly around his leg—just in time. It yanked taut, halting his movement before he could take even a step.
"The Lasso of Truth commands you—what do you really want?" Wonder Woman called out, her voice steady and unwavering.
David roared in defiance, thrashing against the golden rope as if the sound alone could drown out the question. But it couldn't. For all the lies he screamed—about being the main character, about owning everything—the truth was still there, buried deep within him.
He twisted and fought, muscles surging as he tried to tear free, but it was no use. The truth wasn't something he could overpower. Not with strength.
Seeing the struggle, Superman lunged forward, grabbing hold of the lasso. Others followed—heroes and the violet lanterns uniting in that one fragile moment, each of them gripping the rope alongside Wonder Woman, anchoring it with all their might.
Together, they held David back, straining to keep him bound as the truth began to rise.
"I… I want to prove to Alex I matter." The words tore out of David's mouth, raw and unwilling. In the end, he couldn't fight the lasso. The truth spilled out, exposed for all to hear.
That day, when Alex had walked away from them without a glance, it had carved a shadow into David's heart. For someone they once saw as Mr. Perfect to look at them like they weren't even worth getting angry over… it shattered something inside him. It made him feel small. Insignificant. Invisible.
He wanted to matter. He wanted to feel like he meant something. And if destroying Alex's life was the only way to prove that, then so be it.
"I want to live his life," David cried out, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion. "Why? Why is he so perfect?"
As the confession escaped him, the Lantern Rings flickered, their glow dimming. They could feel it—his unworthiness. One by one, they began rejecting him.
But David didn't care. Not anymore. Because in this moment, stripped of everything, he was finally forced to face the truth he had spent so long running from.
"Why did he become our friend?" David said weakly, his voice barely a whisper.
It was like watching a perfect 10 out of 10 girl hanging out with a group of 4s. That's what it felt like. Alex was out of their league in every way. He should've been with the cool kids at school—the ones who matched his shine, his confidence, his perfection. And yet, he chose them.
But instead of making them feel included, it only made things worse. They loved games? Alex would destroy them, every single time. And somehow, he made it worse by holding back, going easy just to spare their pride. That fake mercy stung more than defeat.
He got better grades. He looked better. His face, his body—he had the kind of physique that made others feel invisible. He was charming, intelligent, and perfect.
They couldn't help but compare. Every day. Every interaction. So yes, they felt small. And whose fault was that?
It was Alex's fault. He should've known his level—should've stayed with the crowd that matched it. But no, he chose to hang out with the outcasts. Not to lift them up, but to make them feel small. To remind them of just how far below him they really were.
***
"David no longer wants to kill me… good for him," Alex said lightly, his tone detached as he drove home.
He had noticed it without effort. One of the many killing intents that constantly hovered around him had suddenly vanished. A quick glance told him it was David's. That was all he needed to know.
But he didn't care enough to find out why the change of heart had happened. He had other things on his mind; David simply wasn't worth the thought.
'Did I talk too much?' Alex wondered, a hint of regret creeping in. 'I guess I was more nervous than I expected.'
He sighed, realizing he hadn't given Rachel much of a chance to speak. The whole conversation had been one-sided, his nerves pushing him to fill every silence. He made a mental note to let her do all the talking next time—he'd just listen.
'I need to find out if Diana knew I was where I was…' he thought, shifting focus. 'First things first—I should head home and see if she's there.'
Without wasting time, he sped toward the house. It only took a little over a dozen minutes, and soon he was stepping through the door.
The first thing he saw was a movie paused on the screen. Then, from the bathroom, Diana peeked her head out, eyes meeting his.
"Oh, you're back—give me a second," Diana called out in a rush, disappearing back into the bathroom before Alex could say anything else.
He stood there, staring at the paused movie, silently wondering if he was just overthinking things. Sure, he had a target on his back. That much was clear. But Diana following him around just to keep him safe? That felt like a stretch… didn't it?
Still, a part of him wasn't so sure.
Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Diana moved quickly, stripping off her Wonder Woman outfit with practiced speed. She folded it away, flushed the toilet for good measure, and stepped back out, composed and casual, as if nothing had happened.
"So, how was your date?" Diana asked with a light smile, keeping her tone casual. But her heart skipped a beat the moment she caught Alex's look—sharp, quiet, and calculating.
"That was fast… You didn't wash your hands," Alex said, his voice calm but deliberate.
She had been in the bathroom for maybe ten seconds, tops. Just long enough to close the door, flush, and reappear. Too fast. Much too fast. If she'd really needed to go, there would've been more time—at least enough to account for the usual routine. Lowering pants, sitting down, handling business, then flushing… and she hadn't even touched the sink.
It didn't add up. She normally washed her hands after using the bathroom. Then again… maybe he was overthinking things? She seemed in a rush to speak to him…
"Yeah, I have a weak bladder. I can't hold even the smallest amount of pee," Diana said smoothly, brushing it off with a casual tone.
Alex nodded, his expression shifting from suspicion to concern. "You have urinary incontinence?" he asked, his voice gentle but clinical.
Diana blinked. Those words… she'd never heard them before.
"It's a condition where urine leaks… have you seen a doctor?" Alex asked, his lightcalm but genuinely concerned.
Diana was left speechless. She had many questions, but one echoed louder than the rest: Why does Alex know that?
"No, it's not that," she said quickly. "I just have a weak bladder, that's all. I can hold it, but I'd rather go before it starts feeling uncomfortable."
The words came out smoothly, but it didn't feel right. She didn't like lying—especially not this much. She had almost forgotten… around Alex, she had to be extra careful.
"Oh… oh, you asked about my date. It was fun. I took her to this one place… I forgot its name," Alex said casually, scratching his head. The name of the bowling alley had completely slipped his mind.
Diana stared at him, momentarily speechless. "You remember a medical condition but can't recall the name of a bowling alley?" she asked, brow raised, her voice laced with disbelief.
But the moment their eyes met, her heart froze. Because Alex was staring at her, not with confusion or embarrassment, but with a shocked look, as she had just said something she wasn't supposed to know.
"I never told you anything about me taking her bowling…" Alex said quietly, his gaze fixed on Diana.
She froze. Her mouth opened, then closed again, but no words came out. He had laid the trap—and she had walked straight into it.
"It's not what you're thinking," she said quickly, scrambling for control. "I just have a tracker in the car."
But before she could say more, her phone buzzed with a new notification. She glanced down and saw someone had sent her a link.
Brows furrowing, she tapped it open, and her heart sank. It was a full report, a detailed log of every stop Alex's car had made throughout the entire day.
She hadn't accessed that data. Someone else had.
'Batman…' Diana thought, her jaw tightening. A flicker of irritation passed through her—of course, he was listening in. Of course, he had tagged her car. But when? When had he even gotten the chance?
Still, she kept her expression neutral as she turned the phone toward Alex, showing him the tracker data. Alex glanced at the screen and sighed. He couldn't really be mad, not about her putting a tracker on her own car.
"Well… the date was nice," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We, uh… became a thing."
He trailed off awkwardly, unsure what to make of the look Diana was giving him now.
'I have to use this moment to make him feel uncomfortable the next time he starts doubting me… what was it called?' Diana squinted inwardly. 'Gas the lighter?' Whatever it was, she'd figure it out later. She cleared her throat softly, straightening her posture.
"I understand the reason for your… unconfortability," she said seriously, "but I don't like how you went about questioning me. It kind of made me feel like the bad guy here."
The words came out smoother than expected, though inside, she was pushing down the confident surge rising in her gut. This wasn't the time to gloat. Not yet.
"Sorry," Alex said, stretching the back of his head, his voice quiet. He honestly didn't know how to feel. He couldn't be upset with Diana—how could he? Everything she did came from a good place. She hadn't crossed any lines. She even called to check on him, made sure he was okay. Yet here he was, treating her like the bad guy when, really, she was just looking out for him.
Diana turned away, unable to face the look of guilt in his eyes. It made her chest tighten. But then she remembered—Alex was a bit too bright. His mind moved fast, sharp, and observant. He'd pick up on her expression if she lingered too long.
Without a word, she moved toward the kitchen, pretending it was nothing, heading to get herself something to drink, while asking him to continue.
"We kissed… I guess we were lucky to leave the bowling alley right after, since it exploded a few minutes later," Alex said awkwardly, unsure if he was oversharing..
Diana blinked. "Really? That's… great," she said, forcing a smile. But the words felt strange on her tongue. She didn't know how to react to that. She had been against the entire idea of Raven getting close to Alex, but Batman—of course—went behind her back and set it in motion anyway. And now this? Now it was real.
She honestly didn't know what to do. Raven was a half-demon and neck-deep in the supernatural world. And Alex… Alex hated that world. He didn't trust it, didn't want to be part of it. What would he do when he found out he was already at the center of it?
The glass of water shattered just as she brought it to her lips. Diana's eyes widened in surprise, but her mind kicked into overdrive. Time seemed to slow around her, every droplet of water hanging in the air like suspended jewels.
She moved swiftly, moving aside to avoid the splash. Each shard of glass rotated lazily through the air as she watched them fall, her senses tracking every motion.
Then, just as suddenly, the world snapped back to normal speed. The water splashed onto the floor. The glass hit with a sharp, clinking scatter. Diana crouched down quietly, beginning to pick up the broken pieces.
"What happened?" Alex asked, stepping into the kitchen, only to stop at the sight of the mess on the floor. Well, he asked, but it was pretty clear what had happened. Diana had dropped the glass.
"I guess I'm feeling sick," Diana said quickly, still not looking at him. "Tomorrow, I'll go see a doctor. Can you check my schedule?"
Her voice was calm, and her eyes stayed locked on the broken glass scattered across the floor. Alex nodded while he turned and quietly stepped away to handle her schedule, slipping back into his role.
Once alone, Diana slowly lifted her hand and stared at her palm. Something wasn't right. And she knew it.
'I barely used any force…' she thought, eyes narrowing as she studied her hand.
She didn't understand it. Her grip had been gentle, but the glass had still shattered like brittle ice. Her strength, something she had long mastered, suddenly felt harder to control.